


What Tony Did Next

by Ytteb



Series: What Tony Did Next [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 13:34:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6196997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ytteb/pseuds/Ytteb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the day of the annual physicals at NCIS and there's a surprise in store for the team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was the day of the annual physicals at NCIS headquarters. Dr Donald Mallard was supervising the examinations but not actually carrying them out. He mused on the different reactions of the various agents. Some like Special Agent Jethro Gibbs treated it as a mild irritation but were supremely confident that they would sail through (and nobody could quite imagine who would be bold, or foolhardy, enough to fail him). Some like Special Agent Tim McGee couldn't help but be anxious and ran extra miles and ate extra vegetables in the weeks leading up to their ordeal. Some (not many) like Special Agent Ziva David rather looked forward to demonstrating their physical perfection. Then there was Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo who, in previous years, would have fallen somewhere between Gibbs and Ziva while also unobtrusively going on a McGee-like health kick. This year, however, seemed to be different and Ducky couldn't quite put his finger on it.

The lead up to last year's examinations  _had_  been much as he would have predicted and Gibbs, Ziva and Tim had passed with ease. It had been slightly different for Tony who had recently had to take some time off with a back injury. He had returned to work, however, a few days before and seemed to be back to his usual health. Dr Ramsay had been the doctor carrying out the physicals. Ducky approved of his thoroughness and attention to detail but even so had been surprised at the length of time he had spent poking and prodding an increasingly restless Tony. Finally Dr Ramsay told Tony that he could go and get dressed and then come back for the results. Ducky drew near to the other doctor,

"Is there something amiss, Dr Ramsay? You seemed to spend a long time looking at Anthony."

Dr Ramsay continued to look at Tony's medical history file and at his own notes.

"I'm not sure, Dr Mallard, I don't quite like the look of the x-ray on Agent DiNozzo's back." Ducky peered at the x-ray.

"I don't see anything too sinister there. The injury is recent and there is still some settling down needed but I don't believe Anthony has been in any pain."

"Perhaps," said Ramsay, "but he may be getting a little prone to this type of injury. I'm not convinced I should pass him as fit to continue working in the field."

The two doctors had continued to discuss the case. Tony had come back during the debate and heard some of what was said. Ducky was still not sure what to make of the look on Tony's face when he heard that his assessment as fit for duty was in some doubt. Unsurprisingly, he had looked shell-shocked but he hadn't tried to argue or to demonstrate his fitness by doing sit ups or handstands or some other extravagant gesture. Gibbs had swept in shortly afterwards and dragged DiNozzo away to work on a new case. Ducky and Ramsay had continued the debate and Ramsay had finally agreed to defer to the older doctor's more detailed knowledge of Tony's medical history and pass him as fit.

Shortly after this, Tony had taken an unexpected two week vacation and had returned apparently in his usual high spirits. Ducky had tried to discuss the medical with Tony but he had proved the master of deflection and Ducky had finally admitted defeat. As Ducky had predicted, Tony's back had 'settled down' and there had been no more problems so the matter had slipped from his mind. Until this year's medicals fell due and Ducky wondered how Tony would react this time. He had tried talking to him about it but had been met with the widest of DiNozzo smiles which, Ducky felt, was meant to reassure him but somehow didn't.

Gibbs, McGee and Ziva had all had their medicals and passed although there had been a tricky moment when Tim had started to hyperventilate out of anxiety. They were back in the squad room and waiting for Tony to be called down for his examination. Ducky arrived,

"Anthony, I've been trying to phone you to let you know that Dr Ramsay is ready for you. Didn't you hear your phone ring?"

Tony looked a bit embarrassed.

"Sorry, Ducky, it must have been on silent."

"Hmmph, well come on then, lad, it's nothing to be worried about."

Tony didn't move. Gibbs got impatient,

"Go on, DiNozzo, we've haven't got all day."

"The doctor's needles are not very large, Tony," offered Ziva in what some people might have considered an encouraging tone.

"Needles aren't a problem anymore since Abby fixed me up with that nurse," replied Tony coolly.

"You still here, DiNozzo?” asked Gibbs, "get moving."

Tony stood up and straightened his jacket and tie. Gibbs resumed squinting at his computer, satisfied that all was settled but his head jerked back up again at Tony's next words.

"I'm not going to have the physical this year," and he sat down again.

"But, Tony, if you don't pass the medical you won't be able to be an agent," pointed out McGee.

"Thank you, McObvious, I'd worked that one out."

"My dear boy, I know last year's medical might have been a bit unsettling but I'm sure you have nothing to worry about this year," soothed Ducky.

"What the hell happened last year?" demanded Gibbs.

"Dr Ramsay took a little persuading to pass Anthony as fit. You remember that it was just after he had returned to work after that back injury."

"He's not failing any of my agents," proclaimed Gibbs, "DiNozzo's been perfectly fit all year. DiNozzo, get your ass down to Autopsy right now."

"Now, Jethro, there's no need for you to get excited. Dr Ramsay is an extremely competent and conscientious doctor who ..."

"It doesn't matter," interrupted Tony, "I'm not having a physical this year."

Gibbs fixed his glare on the wayward agent. "DiNozzo, with me."

"I'm not going down to Autopsy, whatever you say, Boss."

"I need coffee. And you're buying it, DiNozzo. Come on."

Tony nodded at that and the two left the squad room leaving the others to stare at one another in disbelief.

Tony and Gibbs walked in an uncompanionable silence to Gibbs' favourite coffee shop where the barista knew exactly what to serve them. They found a table in the window and sat down. Gibbs took a bracing sip of his brew and said in a gentler tone,

"What's going on, Tony? Why didn't you tell me about last year's medical?"

"Nothing to tell, Boss. I knew the doctor was being over cautious and that Ducky would persuade him. Hell, I knew  _you_  would persuade him if necessary."

"So what's the problem this year? Your back hasn't been playing you up, has it?"

"No, it's been fine. The odd twinge but that's to be expected."

"So?" pressed Gibbs.

"So, what do you think I felt when I heard the doc say that I might not be able to carry on being a field agent?"

"I don't know, DiNozzo. Angry, mad, ready to take a swing at him?"

"And that's what  _I_  thought I would feel."

"And what  _did_  you feel?" asked Gibbs.

"Well, numb at first and then ..."

"And then ...?" asked Gibbs a bit anxiously.

"Relieved, I felt relieved. How stupid is that? I love my job, Gibbs, always have. It's my life, it's what I'm good at. Why would I feel relieved at being told that I couldn't do it anymore?"

"I don't know, Tony. Does it matter? The doc passed you as fit and he will again if you just get yourself in gear and go down for the medical."

"I can't do it, Boss. I just keep remembering that feeling of relief, it was like I was being set free from doing this."

"I don't understand, Tony," said a puzzled Gibbs, "it's been nearly a year, why haven't you done anything about it? You could have talked to me about it."

"I know, Boss and I was going to talk to you. That's why I took those two weeks off, went away trying to make sense of it."

"And did you? Make sense of it?" asked Gibbs.

"Not really, but the shock of it faded and I couldn't think of anything else I could do instead. So I came back from vacation and decided just to get on with it but something had changed somehow."

"What? What had changed?"

"Me, I guess. I still worked as hard as ever, I still wanted to do the job as well as I could but I knew somehow that it wasn't all-important any more. I think I realised it wasn't just the job, the long hours, the hard work that was the burden, it was being someone I don't want to be any more."

"The face of a clown, eh?" asked Gibbs.

"Yeah, Senior told me about that. I don't want to be serious all the time, Gibbs but I'm tired of people expecting me to be shallow, cynical and well, juvenile."

"You don't have to be," said Gibbs gently.

"I guess," said Tony, "but can you imagine how Ziva and McGee would react, how long it would take?"

"Sounds like an excuse, Tony. I don't want to lose my best agent because he can't suck it up."

"Don't beat around the bush, Gibbs, say what you think," joked Tony and then winced at the head slap. "No, Boss, and I probably would have tried but ..."

"But?" asked Gibbs.

"You remember I said I came back from vacation and stayed because I couldn't think of anything else I could do instead?"

"Yes ..."

"Well, I think I've found that 'something' after all."

 


	2. Chapter 2

In the squad room word seemed to have spread that things weren't going according to plan. Jimmy had come up to find out why Tony had still not arrived. Abby came because her 'Abbygut' told her something was amiss, and because nobody had brought her a CafPow for a couple of hours.

"What's going on, guys," she asked, as she saw the shocked expressions on the faces of Ducky, Tim and Ziva, "aww, was it nasty, Tim?" assuming that McGee had had a bad time of it at the hands of Dr Ramsay.

"It was fine," said McGee a little defensively.

"Once he'd breathed into the paper bag for a few minutes," added Jimmy helpfully and then winced when Tim directed a McGee glare at him.

"It is Tony," said Ziva, "for some reason he has refused to take his physical. Gibbs has gone to talk sense into him."

"What's going on here?" asked Director Vance who had glided quietly down the stairs.

"Tony ... I mean, Agent DiNozzo says he won't take his physical this year," advised Jimmy.

"It's just a misunderstanding, I'm sure," said Ducky in a soothing voice, while at the same time directing a look at Jimmy that suggested some boring and tedious task awaited his hapless assistant. "I think it is quite providential, Director. It means that Dr Ramsay has some spare time on his hands and so will be able to give you  _your_  physical a little earlier than planned. Isn't that lucky?"

Director Vance retreated back up the stairs muttering something about an urgent call to SecNav. Ducky gave a slightly evil grin, gathered Jimmy up and walked away, saying under his breath,

"Oh dear, that means that Dr Ramsay will have to deal with Nikki Jardine next instead. I don't know which of them will find it the bigger ordeal. Come, Mr Palmer, no rest for the wicked, or for me."

Abby watched them all go with a worried frown on her face which suggested that she wished she'd brought Bert up from the lab with her.

"If Tony doesn't take his physical, he won't be able to carry on being an agent." Tim thought it a little unfair that she could apparently get away with stating the obvious while he got shot down in flames. He smothered his resentment, however, as he realised that there was something much more important going on.

"I'm sure Gibbs will be able to persuade Tony," said Ziva comfortingly.

"You're right. Tony won't disobey a direct order from the Bossman, everything will be fine."

"Although Tony does sometimes do his own thing," pointed out Tim.

"You're not helping, Timmy. We need positive thoughts, happy thoughts." She stalked over to Tony's desk and picked up his Mighty Mouse stapler and walked towards the elevator.

"Where are you going with the stapler, Abby?" asked Tim.

"I'm going to meditate with it and envelop it with healing thoughts," she replied.

"It is not Tony's  _stapler_  which needs healing, but Tony himself," pointed out a puzzled Ziva.

"You don't understand, Ziva," said Abby in a hurt voice, "it's a spiritual thing. I think I'll read his cards as well." Tim could see Ziva opening her mouth to ask how would that help so he shook his head and put his finger over his lips to signify that it would be better, oh so much better, not to ask that question.

Left alone, Tim and Ziva looked at each other.

"You don't think he's really going to leave, do you?" asked Tim.

"I do not know, Tim, he looked quite determined and once he gets a bee in his bonnet ... no, surely that cannot be right, Tony would look silly in a bonnet and why would he want a bee in it?"

"Probably because he couldn't find his needle in the haystack," said Tim, and before Ziva could get her head round that he continued, "Abby's right, Gibbs will talk him round ... and if that fails, he'll head slap him round." He nodded encouragingly at Ziva and went back to work. Ziva followed his example. Neither of them noticed that Director Vance had emerged once more from his office on his way to MTAC, he paused and looked down at them pensively for a few moments before going on his way.

"You don't think Tony is ill, do you?" asked Tim as he realized he couldn't concentrate on his work.

"He has not appeared to be unwell, his appetite is as huge as ever if those two breakfast burritos are anything to go by," responded Ziva.

"Three," corrected Tim, "he had one before you came in. No, you're right, he seems fine. Perhaps it's just a joke, he's probably laughing at us all."

"You think he would play a prank on Gibbs?" said Ziva incredulously, "in that case, he may not have a physical illness but he is certainly suffering from some sort of affliction of the brain."

"And what would he do if he wasn't an agent?" worried Tim, "I can't see him doing desk work."

"Assuming Director Vance would find him such work," said Ziva.

"Tony's only ever been a cop, what could he do instead? I can't see him getting another job in law enforcement if he had to leave NCIS on health grounds," continued Tim. Ziva had no answer to this and they stared at each other for a few seconds. Tim stood up,

"I going to see Abby."

"What will that achieve?" asked Ziva.

"I think I need her positive thoughts," said Tim. Ziva shook her head at such weak-mindedness but then stood up and grabbed Tony's letter opener off his desk and carried it down to Abby's lab. Perhaps it would help concentrate Abby's healing thoughts.

Meanwhile, Dr Ramsay had gone away to write up his notes after Nikki Jardine had been caught up in a conference in MTAC and unable to get away for her physical. This meant that Jimmy and Ducky were alone in Autopsy.

"Make us a nice cup of tea, would you Mr Palmer," said Ducky, "I'm in need of the 'cup that cheers." If Jimmy thought it was unlikely that a cup of tea would get up and shout 'hurrah', he kept those thoughts to himself and went willingly to put the kettle on. An unlikely result of his working with Ducky was that he had become an expert in tea brewing and he hoped this would prove useful when Breena's English aunt came to visit.

"Actually, Mr Palmer," said Ducky, "you don't have to have tea if you don't want to, you can have coffee if you would prefer," and he smiled a little roguishly at his assistant.

"Er ...er, how did you know, er ... er?" stuttered Jimmy. He had thought he had hidden his dislike of Earl Grey very well.

"I thought you might learn to like it," said Ducky a little sadly, "but it's not to be. No need to torture yourself, my boy."

So, once the kettle had boiled, the two sat down with their chosen drinks. Jimmy was the first to speak,

"Dr Mallard, do you think Tony would really leave?"

"I don't know, Mr Palmer, I don't know. Jethro can be very persuasive when he wants to be. He has, after all, persuaded four women to marry him ..."

"But Agent Gibbs isn't going to ask Tony to marry him, is he?" queried Jimmy.

"No, of course not, Mr Palmer. I merely said that to illustrate that Jethro often manages to get his own way," he sighed, "I would have said that this job was Anthony's life but perhaps he has found something else after all."

"But what could it be?" wondered Jimmy.

Mr Palmer might have been pleased to know that he was echoing Gibbs' words at that very moment,

"So what is this 'something' that you've found, DiNozzo?"

Tony opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by Gibbs' phone ringing.

"Yes, Director? ... OK, we're on our way back." Gibbs drained his coffee cup, stood up and poked his finger into Tony's chest, "Come on, DiNozzo. Director's got a job for us," and then he added in a slightly menacing tone, "but don't think this is over yet."

 


	3. Chapter 3

Gibbs delayed their return to the office long enough to get himself another coffee. While he was waiting, he noticed Tony talking with one of the waitresses and then handing her a slip of paper.

"Come on, DiNozzo," he shouted, "we haven't got all day." If Tony thought this a little unreasonable since Gibbs was still waiting for his coffee he didn't say anything but just gave the waitress a cheerful wave goodbye. "Pick up the girls in your own time," grumped Gibbs and swept off.

They found Abby, Jimmy, Ducky, McGee and Ziva as well as the Director waiting for them in the squad room on their return. At least five of those assembled were obviously eager to know if Gibbs had been successful in changing Tony's mind. They didn't get a chance to find out as Director Vance spoke first,

"Agent DiNozzo, a moment, please." He noticed everyone edging closer, obviously in the hope of eavesdropping on the conversation. He changed his mind, "In my office, I think." The others fell back in disappointment and tracked Tony and Vance with their eyes as they walked up the stairs.

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs," said Abby giving Bert three squeezes in her excitement, "what did Tony say? Is he going to take the physical?"

"Don't know, Abs," came the reply, "but there's something going on. He was about to tell me when the Director called us back." Abby huffed in disappointment and hugged Bert again. She looked up the stairs and squinted a bit as if she could somehow see through Vance's door.

As Tony and Vance entered his office, Vance nodded to a chair indicating that Tony should sit.

"Agent DiNozzo, I understand that you have refused to take your annual physical. I assume that you know that taking, and passing, the examination is a requirement of you maintaining your status as a field agent?" Tony nodded and Vance continued, "Do you have a medical problem which you think will prevent you from passing the physical?" Tony shook his head. Vance looked at him consideringly. "Agent DiNozzo, you're a good agent," he paused and grinned at the surprised expression on Tony's face, "I admit that we didn't get off to a good start, and I deplore your lack of computer skills, but I have come to see that you are an effective agent. Also, you are possibly the only person who could manage to be Gibbs Senior Field Agent and retain a modicum of sanity so you would be hard to replace!"

"Thank you, Director. I must say I'm a little surprised. I thought you preferred the computer savvy agents."

"Is that a factor in your decision? I hope it is not because, as I say, I have come to ... er ... appreciate some of your unorthodox methods. And SecNav is quite a fan."

"No, Sir, I don't think it has influenced my decision."

"I'm not convinced yet that you are ready to go. You have another two weeks before the physical has to be taken and passed – I want you to use that time to consider your position. And if you decide that you don't want to remain as a field agent, I think there are many openings for you elsewhere with NCIS."

"Such as?" asked Tony, clearly still a bit stunned at finding that the Director didn't despise him after all.

"There is an opening at FLETC for someone to provide specific Navy based training. Am I right in thinking that your phys ed degree gives you some teaching qualifications?"

"Er ... I think so, but they've probably expired by now."

"They haven't, I've checked. Think it over. If not that, there are other opportunities I can think of." Tony couldn't think of anything to say. He was just bemused at this friendly version of the Director.

"So, Agent DiNozzo, two weeks before you need to make a decision. Now, in the meantime, can I assume that you're ready and able to perform your duties?"

"Of course, Sir, thank you."

"Good. I have a job for you and Agent Gibbs," he buzzed the intercom and asked his secretary to call Agent Gibbs in. Gibbs arrived suspiciously quickly, one might have thought that he was waiting outside.

"Agent Gibbs, that job I called you back for. SecNav is going on a tour of navy bases in Italy and he needs two agents to go with him. I've chosen you. Go home and pack, your flight leaves at 16.30 and you'll be away for three days." Vance was back to his normal brusque manner and Gibbs and Tony left quickly. Tony was even more confused, why had the Director chosen  _him_  for such a dream job? He must have spoken those words out loud because Gibbs gave him a head slap and said in an exasperated voice,

"Because you speak Italian and SecNav likes you – who else is he going to choose?"

The rest of the team were waiting for them downstairs not even pretending to do any work. Unsurprisingly, it was Abby who spoke first, after she had enveloped Tony in a fierce hug.

"Has the Director fired you, Tony?"

As Tony gasped for breath, he managed to say, "No, Abs. I'm not fired. He's sending Gibbs and me to Italy on protection duty for SecNav."

"He's sending  _you_  to Italy?" said Ziva in a shocked tone, "why you?"

"Apparently because I speak Italian and SecNav likes me," said Tony a little frostily. "Anyway, I've got to go. Hmmm, what to pack for a three day trip to Italy, the mother land. I can hear the pasta calling out to me already."

"Better go easy on that pasta," warned McGee, "if you want to be able still to get into those designer suits."

"But, Tony," asked Abby in a shaky voice, "you are coming back, aren't you?"

"Of course I'm coming back. But I'm probably not coming back to stay. Director Vance has given me two weeks to make a decision but, honestly, Abs, I think I've already made up my mind." He enclosed Abby in a gentle hug as she began to weep silently.

"But what will you do instead," asked Ziva with the hint of a wobble in her voice. Tony could see Gibbs looking meaningfully at his watch and so he said, with the hint of a twinkle in his eye,

"No time to tell you now. Look, I'm going to be away for a few days – why don't you all use your investigative skills to find out? But no hacking, Tim." And with that, Gibbs and Tony were gone. Gibbs heard Tony mutter under his breath, "I can't believe I just said that to them!"

NCISNCISNCIS

The team took Tony at his word and spent the days of Gibbs' and Tony's absence in trying to think what he might do next. As word spread that it seemed likely that Agent DiNozzo would be leaving, an office pool was begun with suggestions of what he would go on to do. The night before they were due to return, Tony sent Tim an email saying that Gibbs had invited everyone to brunch the next morning at his house. Everyone assumed, despite this meaning breaking a Gibbs rule, that this would be when Tony told them everything.

When the team arrived at Gibbs the next morning, they saw that Tony had already arrived. They walked into the living room where Gibbs and Tony were waiting for them.

"Thought you might want to hear what DiNozzo has to say before we eat," said the ever practical Gibbs as he took in their nervous expressions, "I've got breakfast keeping warm in the oven."

"We brought back some Italian pastries," said Tony, "they should still be OK." His attempt at brightening the mood didn't have the required effect.

"Tony," said Abby in a brave voice, "have you changed your mind?"

"No," said Tony, "I'm sorry Abs, but I really think the time has come for me to move on."

"OK," said Abby, still trying to be brave, "then can we ask you some questions?" Tony nodded,

"You're not trying to cheat on the office pool, are you?" he asked. Abby punched him in the chest,

"Anthony DiNozzo, how could you think such a thing?"

"The pool closed yesterday," said Tim honestly, "otherwise we might have thought about it."

"But there have been some very interesting suggestions," said Ziva, "it appears that many people fantasize about you, Tony."

"Including you, Zeevah," asked Tony with a slight leer. She just smiled an enigmatic smile.

"Fire away," said Tony, "let's hear these fantasies." Abby passed out a number of pieces of paper to the others.

"I'll go first," she said, "Are you leaving the country?"

"No," said Tony. Abby beamed with relief,

"That means that Nikki loses. She did some research on the Paddington family in England and discovered that your mom's brother is an Earl. She reckoned that as he hasn't got a son, you must be the heir and that you were going to go and live in a castle somewhere in England."

Tony shook his head a bit regretfully. "Sorry to disappoint Nikki but you can tell her that the title can go to a daughter and, anyway, Cousin Crispian is ahead of me in the succession."

Abby sighed, "I'm soo glad you're staying in the US but I could kinda see you in one of those earl's coronets and you might have got invited to the next royal wedding."

"’Fraid not, Abby. Next question."

"I have this one," said Ziva, "are you staying in Washington?" Tony nodded. Abby said nothing but hurled herself at Tony and hugged him once more. Tony winced a little, hoping that the bruises wouldn't be too bad.

"I'm sooo glad," said Abby and everyone else looked relieved too.

"That means that 'the baggie bunnies' were wrong," said Ziva, "they thought you might be going to Los Angeles to be a game show host." She smiled a little maliciously as Tony winced at the unhappy memory of Dr Ryan's time with the team.

And so the questions went on; the suggestions ranging from Tony going to be an underwear model, a Ferrari car dealer, a scriptwriter in Hollywood, a piano player in a cocktail bar, a fund raiser for Ohio State University or, and possibly Tony's favourite, a sports commentator. Ducky chipped in with a question of his own,

"Are you perhaps going back to university to get a doctorate or some other qualification? I was thinking of film studies or something like that," and he gave Tony a shrewd look.

"No, Ducky, I'm not going back to college. Although now that you mention it, that sounds like a pretty good idea. But, no." Ducky sighed a little disappointedly,

"I think you would be good in academia," he said.

"Yes, think of all those bright young girls ready to hang on your every word," said Ziva.

"No, I'm not going back to school – although you make it sound very attractive, Ziva."

"Are you starting up a business?" asked Tim.

"Not quite," said Tony.

"Are you going into an existing business?" asked Jimmy.

"I think 'existing' might be an optimistic description but, yes," said Tony. The others sat back in shock obviously trying to imagine Tony as a businessman.

"Are you going to be a Private Investigator?" asked McGee.

"Hmmm, a PI. No, but they do look pretty cool in the movies. But I suspect it's not quite as glamorous as they make it look. All those mean streets and shadows and beautiful heroines," and he went off into a type of dream. He shook himself, "Anyway if I wanted beautiful heroines, I'd stay where I am", and he tipped an imaginary hat to Abby and Ziva who both smiled back at him.

"Give them a clue, DiNozzo," said Gibbs, "the food will be drying out and I need a coffee."

Tony thought for a moment, "Here's a clue for McBadenPowell. You could bring your scouts here to earn a merit badge."

"You're going to run a campsite?" asked Ziva, "but you hate sleeping outdoors. Just think how much you hated going to Arizona with Gibbs, you did not stop talking, and complaining, about it for weeks."

"There are other types of merit badges," said Tony loftily. "Think, ex-probie wan"

And so Tim thought. A business, presumably in bad shape, had got Tony excited. Merit badges – not much of a clue as there were so many but which one would have got Tony's attention? What else was Tony good at? And as Tony looked on encouragingly, a memory returned of a visit they had paid to a rundown area of Washington to search for witnesses to a robbery. A memory of a bad tempered old man, standing in front of a shabby building...

"I could bring them to get their cinematography badge!"

Tony smiled proudly as 'his Probie' finally joined the dots.

"You're going to run a movie theatre with that old grouch Archibald!" he said partly in disbelief and partly suddenly sure he was right.

"Got it in 92," said Tony, "I'm starving, can we eat now, Boss?"

 


	4. Chapter 4

Tony leapt to his feet and bounded into the kitchen leaving the others to look at each other in varying degrees of shock. Gibbs, who already knew the story, shrugged his shoulders, gave his characteristic hint of a wry smile and went to join Tony.

Ziva turned to Tim,

"So who is this bald man who Tony is going into business with?" she demanded.

"No, no, Ziva", said Ducky, "not a bald man but a man named Archibald. Actually, the word derives from the Old French and Old German and means something like 'genuine' or 'bold'. It's a very popular name in Scotland. I went to school with an Archibald, Archie we called him, but I fear he didn't live up to his name and turned out to be a bit of a rogue, not trustworthy at all. Why, I remember when ..." Ziva interrupted him,

"I am sure that is very interesting, Ducky, but I think we would all like to hear more about this man who seems to be luring Tony away from us."

"Yes, quite. I'm so sorry, my dear. Timothy, please enlighten us as you seem to be the only person who has met the gentleman."

Tim struggled to remember more details,

"Tony and I were doing interviews trying during the Wilmot case – you remember, that series of petty thefts from the houses of navy personnel. They began at the homes of junior officers and gradually worked their way up the ranks until we thought they were aiming for SecNav."

"Yes, a very curious series of thefts, if I remember correctly they always left a live kitten at the scene of each crime. A sort of variation on being a cat burglar," said Ducky, "of course, I didn't get too involved as fortunately there were no corpses involved."

"That's right, Ducky," said Tim, "in the end, it turned out that Petty Officer Wilmot had some sort of grudge against the Navy for not allowing him to bring his pet on board ship."

"Yes, yes, yes," said Ziva, "but where did this Archie Bald fit in?"

"It's all one word, Ziva, not two. Archibald," said Abby helpfully. Encountering Ziva's glare, she said,

"But that's not important. Go on, Timmy."

"One of the robberies had taken place in Seymour Boulevard so Tony and I went house to house doing interviews. We didn't get anywhere but Tony spotted this old movie theatre and insisted on going in." Tim remembered that he had tried to drag Tony away but he had that 'movie glint' in his eye and couldn't be persuaded. "Tony was like a kid in a toy shop. There were all these old movie posters on the wall, a chandelier in the lobby – it didn't look as if anything had changed since the 50s. Didn't look as if it had been dusted since it opened either."

"And what about Archibald? Is that his first or last name?" asked Jimmy.

"Second name. I think he's Gordon or George, something like that. Anyway, he wasn't very pleased to see us.  Said we would scare off his customers. By the look of the place, I wouldn't have thought he had any customers for us to scare off in the first place. And if the look, and smell, of the place didn't put people off then well, let's just say  _he_  wasn't the most welcoming of people."

"So why did you stay? Did he have any of interest to say?" asked Ziva.

"About the case, no, but Tony took a shine to him. You know how he does sometimes. I couldn't drag him away. Tony kept asking him questions about the posters, how long he'd been there and eventually the guy started to warm up to him."

"And what happened then?" asked Abby.

"I don't know. When I saw that they had settled down for a long chat, I went and sat in the car until they had finished. You know, Tony's bad enough when he goes into one of his monologues about movies but, believe me, it's even worse when he finds someone who knows as much about them as he does."

"That's because you have no soul, Tim," said Tony, returning from the kitchen carrying plates of warm rolls and the Italian pastries. "I might not let you bring your boy scouts after all."

Gibbs brought in a couple of pitchers of juice. Tony took orders for hot drinks and went back into the kitchen and was followed by Ziva. Tony sighed,

"Are you sure you don't want to wait for me to go to the men's room, Ziva? That's usually where you like to hold our little heart-to-hearts."

"I do not think it would be appropriate for us both to go to Gibbs's bathroom," she replied, standing with her arms crossed and barring his way. He turned away from her and set the coffee machine going and switched the kettle on for Ducky's tea.

"OK, let's hear it then. I take it you don't approve?"

"It is not a matter of my not approving. You are, after all, an adult and, presumably, capable of making adult decisions."

"Why, Ziva, I think that's probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me!"

"Why cannot you be serious, Tony? This is a big decision and you seem to be taking it very brightly."

"I think you mean 'lightly' but I'm not taking it lightly, Ziva. I've been thinking about this for a long time."

"But the Wilmot case was only six weeks ago, you cannot have been thinking about it for a long time."

"I've been thinking about leaving NCIS for a long time, I just couldn't think of what I should do instead."

"Why do you wish to leave, Tony? I do not understand. I know that we all tease one another but I thought you liked that."

"I do, Ziva, and I give as good as I get but sometimes it would be nice if I could be serious for a change and not get accused of having a nervous breakdown or hatching some sort of plot against you and McGee."

"And is that reason enough for you to leave?" asked Ziva.

"No, of course not. Gibbs pointed out that I could have 'sucked it up' and learned to change although personally I think it would have taken until I retired before you and the Probie really accepted it."

"Then why are you leaving?"

"I tried to explain to the Boss. Last year, there was a moment when I thought I was going to fail the physical and, instead of being horrified, I was relieved. It felt as if some sort of burden was being lifted from me, I wouldn't have to do this anymore," he looked at Ziva's puzzled face, "I don't really understand it myself, Ziva. I love the job and I think I'm good at it but the feeling hasn't gone away. Gibbs always listens to his gut, and I finally decided to listen to mine. And mine is saying, 'Go, Anthony, go'".

Ziva nodded as she tried to understand. "I suppose, at a punch, I can accept that you have decided to leave but I still don't understand why it has to be for something so ..." she trailed off.

"Frivolous? And it's 'pinch', by the way. I shall miss the Zivapropisms. Ziva, I would have thought you'd be first person to say that I'm not good at very much. I was good at sport and that got taken away from me. I'm good at being a cop and I feel, even if you don't agree, that that is being taken away from me as well. What else am I good at? Well, I'm good at movies and I love them so finding a job using that knowledge seems right to me."

"I wasn't going to say 'frivolous'. I was going to say irresponsible. Our work is dedicated to keeping people safe and, yes, I will say it: you are excellent at that job. I do not think we should walk away from the responsibility just because we get a bit wobbly in our stomachs."

"Which is why I didn't walk away until now. I've lived up to my responsibility, my sworn duty, but the time has come for something else. I've spent my whole adult life looking out for people and now I'm going to do it in a different way."

"By running a  _movie theatre_?" said Ziva incredulously.

"It's not going to be just a movie theatre, Ziva. I think it can be more than that. Seymour Boulevard is a pretty run down, sad sort of place but you can see that it used to be something different. I want to set up clubs at the movie house – Saturday morning clubs for children to come to; afternoon screenings when older people can meet up; film series for fans to come to. It's near the University so students will come as well. We're going to re-open the coffee bar. I've offered Gibbs' favourite barista a job there – don't tell him. It's going to be a meeting place for the community, a safe place for them to come to."

"You are serious about this," said Ziva in a voice of wonder.

"Yes, I am and I'm afraid you're all going to have to live with that. Who knows, Ziva, there might be kids who stay out of trouble because they have a place to go. As a cop, I've been responsible for tracking people down when things have gone wrong. In future I may be able to stop them going wrong in the first place."

"So you are aiming to put us out of business?" joked Ziva.

"Well, that would be nice but it is only one movie theatre. I've spent years coming down hard on people, now it's my chance to be nice to them instead and that feels pretty good."

"I am not  _totally_  convinced," said Ziva, "but I am beginning to understand."

"Thanks, Ziva, that means a lot," and he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek, "now, we'd better get back to the horde before they come in demanding their caffeine fix."

"And I think there is probably a queue of people waiting to interrogate you too," smiled Ziva.

Tony groaned.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Ziva and Tony took the drinks back into Gibbs' living room and gave them out. Tony had just sat down and was reaching out for one of the Italian pastries when Ducky said,

"Anthony, that was such a delicious cup of tea. Do you think you could make me another?" Tony paused mid-reach and said,

"Drunk it already, Ducky? That was quick."

"Ah, the perils of years spent as an on-call doctor, I fear. I learned to drink my beverages very swiftly in case I didn't get an opportunity to finish them. Why, I remember one occasion when ..."

"It's no problem, Ducky, of course I'll make you another one," said Tony casting a mournful glance at the last remaining pastry.

"I'll come with you," said Ducky and before Tony knew what happened he had been wafted back to the kitchen on a wave of steely Ducky charm. Ducky sat down at the kitchen table and gestured to Tony to do the same,

"Now, my lad, tell me all about your new venture while the tea is brewing."

Tony saw that he had been out-manoeuvred so gave in gracefully. He suspected that Gibbs' only potted plant had just received a drink of very hot Earl Grey tea. He repeated what he had said to Ziva about his plans for the movie theatre and Ducky nodded appreciatively at the right moments.

"I hope your coffee bar will also serve tea," he said, "It sounds a delightful idea. Perhaps you could show some of the early Ealing comedies. My particular favourite was 'Whisky Galore' although I have to say that island didn't bear much resemblance to the Scottish islands I knew."

"That's a great idea," said Tony, 'and perhaps you could come along and give some background information about England ... and Scotland, at the time they were made."

"I would be delighted to do so," said Ducky, "although you might have to explain to people that I could get called away to talk to a dead body."

"I'm sure they would just think it of it as a charming British eccentricity," smiled Tony and, then after a pause, "what's on your mind, Ducky?"

"That transparent, eh?" said Ducky, "well, two things really. You are sure that you have no reason to fear taking the physical? You are quite well, are you?"

"Ducky, I promise you that I feel as fit as I have ever done."

"To a wary Scot like me, that could still be concealing a fear or concern."

Tony laughed, "You've been spending too much time with devious criminals, Ducky. I promise I wasn't trying to give a cryptic answer. I feel fit and well and have no reason to think I am anything other than completely healthy. Is that straightforward enough for you?"

"Yes, my boy, it is. I apologise for being unduly suspicious. One more thing before we leave the subject of your health – I hope you know that,  _if_  some problem does arise in the future, my door will always be open."

"Thank you, Ducky, that means a lot but I hope you won't think me ungrateful if I say I hope I never have to take you up on that offer. Now, you said two things?"

"Yes, Mr Archibald?"

"Gregory Archibald, although most people call him Archie."

"Timothy said that he was a rather grumpy curmudgeon," said Ducky.

"Possibly," said Tony, "but I'm not sure I know what a curmudgeon is."

"Someone bad-tempered, surly, stubborn," explained Ducky resisting the temptation to elaborate as he suspected that Tony was being deliberately obtuse in a bid to distract him.

"Like Gibbs, you mean?" and the two burst out laughing. Ducky soon stopped and fixed Tony with a stare of his own which was so powerful that Tony mused that he must have been taking lessons from Gibbs. Or perhaps, Gibbs had learned from Ducky which was a slightly terrifying thought.

"Archie is going through a rough patch. He's good at the choosing of movies and he's a great projectionist – and that's not easy, you know. He's not so good at the front of house stuff, at the admin, paying bills and salaries. He used to employ someone to do all that but they had a falling out about two years ago and he's been trying to do it all himself since then."

"Does he have any family?" asked Ducky.

"I think he has family in Scotland. His mother was a GI war bride who came over in 1946 and he was born shortly after that. He says he has a brother who lives in California and a sister in Texas so he's not on his own."

"Children?" enquired Ducky.

"He's never mentioned any but I don't know if he ever had any and has quarrelled with them. Let's say he tends to do that. I do know that he was married but they split up years ago."

"He sounds rather a lonely person," mused Ducky.

"Possibly, I wouldn't say he was unhappy, though. He loves the movie theatre and he's got a couple of old buddies who have clung on. Why do you want to know all this, Ducky?" He saw that Ducky was staring at him with compassion in his eyes. "Whoa, do you think I see myself in him forty years from now? A lonely old man with only movies for company? Well, thanks Ducky, but I think I've got other things going on my life."

"I'm just concerned that you might be feeling sorry for a lonely old man and letting your emotions carry you away."

"Ducky, I appreciate your concern. Yes, Greg Archibald is a 'curmudgeon' who tends to quarrel with people and drive them away. But you have to admit that I have many years’ experience dealing with grumpy ex-marines. Did I mention that he did a stint in the corps? He is also the most knowledgeable person about movies I have ever met and, surprisingly enough, he's my friend, not just someone I feel the need to rescue." He got up quickly to pour the boiling water into the teapot Gibbs kept especially for Ducky.

"I didn't want to upset you, Anthony. I ...  _we_ are all concerned for you. I wanted to be sure that you weren't just being kind to a lonely old man - as you are kind to another lonely old man."

"Ducky, are you lonely?" asked Tony worriedly as his anger died down.

"Sometimes, I suppose but don't worry, I was exaggerating slightly and I wanted to let you know that your little kindnesses don't go unnoticed."

"Ducky, if nothing else, I would be nice to you out of respect for the memory of your glorious mother ... and those awful corgis! Come to think of it, it was after moving her commode all round the ground floor of your house that I started getting back trouble!"

"Oh my, she was certainly a strong character, wasn't she? All right, I can see that you're trying to distract me from what we were talking about so I won't say anything more other than to wish you well in your new venture." He clinked his newly filled cup against Tony's mug of coffee as a final salute.

"I think you'll like Archie," said Tony, "he doesn't talk much but he likes to listen!"

Ducky chuckled, "I look forward to meeting a fellow Scot and educating him about his home land." They both got up to go and join the others. Tony remembered the lone Italian pastry and hoped it was still there but his expedition was interrupted by the arrival of Abby.

"Tony, I've got to go to a 'Habitat for Humanity' meeting. Tim was going to give me a ride but he needs to stay and help Gibbs with ... something. Can you take me instead?"

Tony suspected a set up but, once again, realised that it was better to give in gracefully.

"Come on, then. I'll just go in and say goodbye to the others."

"There's no point looking for that pastry," said Abby brightly, "Tim ate it ages ago."

"Damn," said Tony, "I knew I should have got ones with sprinkles."

 


	6. Chapter 6

Tony and Abby hadn't driven far before Tony's stomach rumbled loudly and he remembered that, as a result of Ducky and Ziva 'kidnapping' him, he hadn't had a chance to eat any brunch himself. Somehow he thought he would need sustenance to survive Abby's interrogation. He spotted a diner up ahead and pulled in.

"Why are we stopping, Tony?" asked Abby.

"I need food. The rest of you have been filling yourselves with Italian pastries while some of us were being given the third degree. What time's your meeting with the nuns?"

"Oh ... we didn't fix an exact time so we've got time to stop. Do you think they do CafPows?" In her eagerness to get Tony talking, Abby didn't notice her mistake until she saw Tony quirking an eyebrow in amusement. "What?" she asked.

"You said your meeting was with Habitat for Humanity when you insisted I drive you," pointed out Tony. Abby had the decency to blush a little and as she began to stammer out an excuse, Tony took pity on her,

"It's OK, I guessed what you were up to but I really do need some food." He grabbed her by the hand and led her into the diner. It looked like a cosy family run place and there was a tempting smell of fresh brewed coffee and fried donuts. Tony and Abby found a table in the window and started looking at the menu. Abby started to speak but Tony raised his hand and shook his head,

"Food first," he said. Abby pouted but agreed. A few minutes passed and Tony realised that nobody had come to take their order. He looked at the counter and his eyes narrowed in concern.

"Abby, I'm going to see what sort of donuts they've got. Wait here," he said. Abby was still engrossed in choosing a suitable substitute for CafPow so she just nodded absently.

Tony walked casually up to the bar where he could see a young man, barely more than a boy, waving a knife at the motherly-looking woman behind the till. A young girl stood next to her, looking terrified and close to tears. Tony looked at the older woman's name badge.

"Hi, Miriam," said Tony cheerfully, "what are the donuts like today? They smell good. Oh, I'm sorry," he said, appearing to have just noticed the young man, "I didn't mean to jump the queue."

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Sir," said Miriam, "if you go and sit down, I'll get Sherry to take your order."

Tony was impressed at Miriam's courage in trying to get him out of the way.

"No hurry, Miriam. I'll just have a look at what you've got here today", and he nodded to her to show that he knew something was going on and he was there to help. "Hey," he said to the young man, "what would you recommend?"

The young man jumped and turned around. Tony could see that he was sweating and his eyes were wide and staring.

"W..w...what?" he said.

Miriam interrupted, "Stephen wants a donut too. He likes the donut holes with icing but we don't have any today." From that Tony gathered that Stephen was a regular here and that, on other days, he had been welcomed. Miriam continued, "Stephen's not feeling very well today, are you, Son?"

Stephen replied, "I'm fine ... I just want my donut but SHE," and he pointed to the trembling Sherry, "said I couldn't have one!" and he waved the knife again.

Tony moved a pace or two closer, "Stevie ... can I call you Stevie?" Stephen shook his head furiously. "OK, Stephen it is. Stephen, you're frightening these nice ladies. You don't want to do that, do you?" Stephen shook his head again. "Now, why don't you and I go and sit down over there and Miriam will bring us something to eat. I'm really hungry but I hate to eat alone." For a moment it looked as if Stephen would agree but at that moment Sherry burst into tears and he twitched in shock and waved his knife at her. Tony leaned forward to grab the arm that was holding the knife but Stephen jerked the blade and hit Tony. Stephen's face lost all its colour as he saw what he had done,

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do it, I'm sorry."

"That's all right, Stephen, I know it was an accident," said Tony as he gritted his teeth against the pain, "now, why don't you give me the knife and we'll go and sit down." Stephen kept hold of the knife and peered forward to look at Tony's arm,

"What's that?" he asked wonderingly.

"Blood," said Tony.

"Where did it come from?" asked the lad.

"From my arm," said Tony trying to be patient.

"Have I got blood in my arm?"

"Everyone has blood in their arms," said a slightly confused Tony. "Noo ...noo ...don't do that!" and Tony seized Stephen's wrist as he went to stab himself. He managed to squeeze the wrist until Stephen had to drop the knife. Stephen started sobbing,

"I wanted to see my blood, why didn't you let me?" He dropped to his knees still weeping. Tony dropped the knife and kicked it away and then knelt beside him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Why do you want to see your blood, Stephen?"

"They told me to, they said I should see my blood and then I'd be better."

"Who told you?" asked Tony but Stephen was crying uncontrollably and didn't answer. Miriam stepped out from behind the counter.

"He hears voices when he doesn't take his meds. He's a good boy but he hates taking the meds but he's never been like this before." She handed Tony a towel to wrap his arm and then hugged Stephen and rocked him in her arms.

Abby came running up. She had been watching in horror from her seat. She had seen how jumpy the lad was so had stayed where she was not wanting to startle him.

"Tony, Tony, Tony ... are you all right? Silly question, of course you're not all right. Tony, Tony, Tony ..."

Tony hushed her, "Abs, call 911, we need an ambulance."

"Oh, you're hurt, it's all my fault, Tony, Tony, Tony"

"Abs, it's just a scratch. I'll be fine. The ambulance is for Stephen. I'm sorry, Miriam, but I think Stephen needs to go to the hospital before he hurts himself. Is there anyone you can call to let them know what's happening?"

Miriam nodded, "I'll take care of it. He really is a good boy ... I don't know your name?"

"Tony, Tony DiNozzo."

"I do thank you, Tony. I wasn't worried for myself but Sherry was real frightened." Tony nodded in Sherry's direction and Abby hurried over to comfort her.

The ambulance soon arrived. Stephen had calmed down and went into the ambulance meekly. The paramedics had more trouble with Tony who insisted he was fine and couldn't go to hospital because he had to take Abby to a meeting with Nuns for Humanity. He shook his head at that realising that something didn't sound right in what he had just said but not quite able to work out what was wrong. Miriam put her foot down,

"You get in that ambulance right now, young man. I don't want to mop up any more blood off my nice clean floor." Tony nodded submissively and climbed in. Miriam followed to make sure he was staying put and pulled him down for a kiss on his cheek. "You make sure you come back soon and I'll make you the best donuts you've ever eaten."

As the door to the ambulance closed, she was puzzled to hear Tony shout,

"With lots of sprinkles, that way McGee won't want any."

Abby followed in Tony's car. She went to the ER and was directed to the cubicle where Tony was waiting.

"Don't hug me, Abby," he said when he saw her.

"Oh, Tony, I'm sorry, don't be angry with me."

"I'm not angry. I don't want to get blood all over you."

"I don't mind getting your blood on me. But that doesn't mean I want you to have blood. I mean, of course, I want you to have blood ... you'd be dead otherwise, but I want your blood to stay safely inside," she trailed to a halt having talked herself round in a circle. She was saved from a further attempt at explanation by the arrival of a doctor and nurse.

"Mr DiNozzo, I'm Dr Carr. This is Nurse Saunders. I understand you've been having an argument with a knife? Can I have a look?"

The doctor gently unwound the towel.

"Hmmm, that doesn't look too bad. It needs a few stitches and the rest will be butterfly bandages. Are you up to date with your tetanus shots?"

"Oh, believe me, Doc, I'm up to date," said Tony.

"Tony's always in the ER," said Abby mournfully but with a touch of pride.

"I see," said the slightly puzzled doctor, "I'll leave Janine to fix you up."

"Abby, why don't you wait outside," said Tony.

"I can stay," insisted Abby.

"I know," said Tony, "but I don't really want an audience, especially one who might take a picture of the gore and stick it up in the lab."

"OK, I'll go," said a disappointed Abby, "but it would make a great photo."

"She's a Goth," explained Tony to the nurse, "nice, but a Goth," and he gave her a winning smile.

After about twenty minutes Nurse Saunders came out,

"You can go in now. I just need to get the paperwork sorted out and then he can go."

"Thank you, thank you," Abby bounced through the curtain into the cubicle. Tony was sitting up on the bed with a sour expression on his face and a big bandage on his arm which was in a sling.

"Oh, Tony, don't look so cross. I'm really sorry."

"I'm not cross with you, Abby. Why do they send married nurses in to deal with wounded single men? It's such a wasted opportunity!"

Abby smiled and hugged him gently, "I was so worried, Tony."

"I know, but it wasn't your fault. It was me who chose that diner."

"But you wouldn't have been in the car at all if it hadn't been for me. Tony ..."

"OK, Abs, why don't you just give me all the reasons you think I should stay at NCIS.”

Anthony DiNozzo, I would LOVE you to stay at NCIS but I've been thinking and I think that if you really, really, really think you should leave, then you should go. It would be selfish to make you stay but I'm going to miss you so much."

"Thanks, Abby and I'll miss you too. But I'm not going far and there's a bowling alley on the next block so perhaps you and the nuns could come and bowl there sometime?" Abby hugged Tony again,

"Ooohh, yes, and we can watch a movie afterwards ... there must be loads of nun movies they'd like. And Tony, I'm sorry."

"You've already apologised, Abs," said Tony in a muffled voice from inside Abby's embrace.

"Not for this, I haven't. You see, I called Gibbs and told him you were in the hospital. I think they may all be on their way."

"Abby! ... and I still haven't had anything to eat."

 


	7. Chapter 7

As expected, Gibbs, Ducky, McGee and Ziva soon descended on the hospital. Ducky clucked over Tony's arm but approved the nurse's work, Gibbs stood in one corner overseeing everything and Ziva offered to drive Tony home. McGee saw the look of horror on Tony's face. He wasn't sure which terrified Tony more: the thought of Ziva driving his precious 'baby' or of himself being driven through the streets of Washington like a sled on the Cresta Run. Either way, he took pity on the senior field agent,

"That's OK, Ziva, I'll take Tony home," and he nodded meaningfully to Ziva. Ziva wasn't sure what the meaningful nod was meant to convey but decided that it was some man-bonding sort of thing and that she would let them 'have their moment'.

Ducky gave some last minute instructions on wound care and assured Gibbs, again, that Tony would be fine to go home on his own.

"Take a couple of Tylenol when you get home, Anthony and I'll pop round tomorrow to see how you're doing. I think you'll be able to lose that huge bandage tomorrow but leave it on for tonight."

"Thanks, Ducky," said Tony, "lead on MacDuff. Hey, that's a real quote, why didn't I think of that one before?"

"Actually," said Ducky, unable to resist imparting information, "the actual quote from Macbeth is ...", but it was too late, Tony and Tim had gone.

NCISNCISNCIS

"Thanks, Tim, for saving me from the demon driver, well,  _drivers_  really, I could see Gibbs twitching."

"No problem, Tony. Let's get you home before you get into any more trouble."

"Can we stop for pizza on the way," said Tony with the hint of a whine in his voice.

"Sure."

“... and donuts?"

McGee smiled, he thought Tony probably needed a bit of a sugar rush after all that happened that day. Sometime later, having done extra diversions for chocolate milk and Tylenol, Tony and Tim arrived at Tony's apartment. Tony flopped gracelessly on his couch and sighed happily as he watched McGee struggle in with two large pizzas, a bag of donuts and the chocolate milk.

"Don't worry, Tony, I've got it," said McGee with a touch of sarcasm. Tony put on a wounded look,

"Hey, I would have helped but I've only got one arm. Abby wouldn't have minded."

"But Ziva would have," pointed out McGee.

"True, McGrue, you have possibly saved me from a fate worse than death so I will overlook your ... your ... tetchiness, McTetchy."

"You sure they didn't give you any painkillers at the hospital?" asked McGee anxiously.

"Just local anaesthetic when they did the stitching." McGee winced.

"It's just a flesh wound," continued Tony. McGee winced again; he should have known that the Monty Python quote would come out. It always did when Tony was hurt.

"Have some pizza, Tony. I think you need something in your system, you need to start replacing that blood."

"Finally," said Tony, "someone realises that this finely-tuned magnificent specimen of a body needs fuel to run on", he reached for a slice of pizza, "and this is the finest fuel ever made." Silence reigned for several minutes as the two chewed on their pizzas. They then started on the donuts but McGee seemed a little nervous as he picked off the sprinkles in a more distracted way than usual. Finally he said,

"I'm sorry, Tony."

Tony leaned his head back against the couch and moaned,

"Et tu, McBrute? Why is everyone apologising today? Why are  _you_  sorry? You didn't scratch the car, did you?" he said in sudden anxiety.

"No, your baby is fine," reassured McGee, "as you have pointed out on many occasions, I drive like a grandmother."

"If you'd ever seen Nonna DiNozzo drive you'd know that those are not reassuring words, McTim. So what you are sorry for?"

"It's my fault you got hurt."

"How so?" said Tony through a mouthful of donut.

"I needed to speak to Gibbs and wanted Abby out of the way. You know how hard it is to have a personal conversation with her around," and privately, he thought it was even more difficult when you added Tony to the mix, "So I sort of persuaded her that she needed to have a talk with you away from the house. And look how well that worked out."

"You mean that Abby didn't really want to have a private heart to heart with me to persuade me not to leave NCIS?"

"No."

"You mean she's OK with it?" Tony sounded a little hurt. Tim hastened to explain,

"Oh no, she hates the idea of you leaving but she also hates the idea of you, any of us, getting hurt so she was sort of reconciled to it. She thinks you'll be safer if you're not working out in the field anymore."

"Well, I think today proved that's not true," said Tony morosely. He popped a couple of Tylenol out of the packet and swallowed them with chocolate milk. "OK then, I'll buy it, what did you talk to Gibbs about?"

"Nothing," said Tim.

"Nothing? You mean you sent me out into the dangerous world of donut diners for nothing?"

"Hey, it's not my fault you got hurt."

"I thought you said it was, McChangeable," said Tony. McGee huffed in frustration but decided not to play along,

"I  _wanted_  to speak to Gibbs but he had a job for me first. Just as I finished doing that, Abby phoned from the hospital and well, I lost my chance."

"I'm sorry I  _inconvenienced_ you," said Tony as he pointedly shifted his arm in its sling. "So what did you want to talk to the Boss about?"

"Can't you guess?" asked Tim.

"Hmmm, I would say that part of you is terrified that he's going to ask you to be the new senior field agent and the other part is terrified that he won't. Am I right?"

"Yes, and you got it in less than 92," admitted McGee, "Tony, do you think I could do it, be Gibbs' senior agent?"

"You managed to be mine," pointed out Tony, "and you don't really seem to think I do anything anyway, so what's the problem?"

"Tony ... you know that I think you're a great agent ..."

"It's just you can't quite see what Gibbs sees in me, why he's put up with me so long?"

"No, that's not true. Well, not quite. Most of the time you just seem to be goofing around and then sometimes ..."

"Sometimes ...?" queried Tony.

"Sometimes, you just step up to the mark and do something amazing, you're suddenly focused and in control and it's a bit, well, scary. I'm pretty sure I could do the everyday things but it's those 'out of the blue' things that frighten me. I'm not sure I could do what you do."

"Not sure the Boss would want you to do what I do, Tim. He'd want you to do it in your way. Sure, it's scary to start with but you've had your moments. When the time comes, you'll know what to do. I've trained you well, Grasshopper." Tim looked pleased at this vote of confidence but was obviously not convinced, "Tim, we do a tough job. We cope in different ways. I cope by playing the clown and teasing my co-workers ... possibly too much on the odd occasion. You cope by burying yourself in computer programs. Ziva copes by cleaning her gun."

"And how does Gibbs cope? Building boats?" asked Tim.

"As Gibbs' senior field agent for many years, I have developed a theory," Tony leant forward in a conspiratorial fashion and said, "all those cups of coffee – I think they're his comfort blanket. I think it may have to do with how long he was breast fed as a baby," and he tapped one side of his nose in a knowing way. Tim gulped,

"That's one question I'm never going to ask Gibbs." Tony nodded,

"A wise decision – but perhaps Abby could?" They lapsed into silence as they pictured that scene.

"Do you think Gibbs will ask me?" said Tim as he dragged his mind away from imagining Abby's earnest interrogation of the Boss.

Tony considered his reply, "Gibbs hates change, new people, so that's in your favour. He knows I'm irreplaceable so he won't be expecting perfection, so that's in your favour."

"Gee, thanks, Tony; that's a big comfort. I'll be Gibbs' second best pair of comfy slippers."

"Tim, what do you want me to say? I would choose you as my senior agent, hell, I  _did_  choose you. You're smart, competent and you'd do the job better than me in some ways."

"In some ways?"

"Yes, Tim, in  _some_ ways. I'm good, very good at the job. I think you'd be good at the job but you would do it differently. Not necessarily always better but differently. You just need to remember that the job isn't just about Gibbs. You have to learn to have your own opinion. The Boss is a really strong character and it's easy to just be caught in his slipstream but you have to be your own man. Because he does get it wrong sometimes and you have to be ready."

"I'm not sure I could stand up to Gibbs."

"Yes, you could and he would expect you to. Gibbs doesn't want a yes man, he wants ..."

"You," supplied Tim.

"Possibly," said Tony, "well, actually yes, but he's a pragmatist, he gets on with things and I think he could do a lot worse than giving you the job."

"Thanks, Tony."

"But, McGee, don't take the job unless you really want it because otherwise Gibbs will just blow you away."

"I won't," promised Tim, "and Tony, I don't want there to be a vacancy in the job. I always kinda hoped that I'd be  _your_  senior field agent one day."

"I know, Tim," said Tony, "I thought it might happen too. Hey, what did Gibbs have you doing while I was dicing with death?"

"Nothing in particular, just some computer geeky stuff," said Tim evasively, "have you finished with the pizza?" Tony nodded and Tim started clearing the debris and putting the leftovers in the kitchen. When he came back he found Tony fast asleep and snoring.

"Good night, Tony," said Tim softly, "see you in the morning. I'm going to miss you."

 


	8. Chapter 8

As promised, Ducky came early in the morning to look at Tony's arm. He removed the big protective dressing but advised Tony, without much hope, to wear the sling for a couple more days. Tony invited him to stay for a cup of tea but Ducky declined saying he had chores to do at home.

"I'll see you at work on Monday, Anthony. I told Jethro that I would advise you to carry on wearing the sling, so don't be surprised if he arrives for an inspection. Cheerio."

"Bye, Ducky," said Tony, wondering when Gibbs would arrive. He decided to put some coffee on to brew reasoning that Gibbs wouldn't really mind if he arrived and found it had been brewing for hours. In fact Gibbs arrived about fifteen minutes after Ducky's departure and before Tony had started thinking of removing the sling.

"Come in, Boss," greeted Tony, "the coffee's brewed."

"Thanks," said Gibbs, getting his favourite large mug down from Tony's cupboard and helping himself to the coffee, "you want a cup?"

"No thanks, I made it Gibbs strength so I'll stick with tea. I'm still rather fond of my stomach lining," said Tony. Gibbs grinned and set about making Tony a cup of tea. He then produced two pastries,

"I bought these from that Italian place round the corner. Seem to remember you missed out on them yesterday."

"I think I love you, Boss," and Tony as he sat on one of the tall stools by his kitchen island. Gibbs pulled the other stool out and sat down to nurse his coffee.

"You did good yesterday, Tony," he said after a minute or two, "shows why you're a good agent, my best agent."

"Wow, Gibbs, I don't think you've ever said that to me before. Thank you," said a slightly pink Tony.

"Wouldn't have kept you on all these years if I didn't think you were good," said Gibbs gruffly. "Ducky would say that I should have told you more often. Would it have made a difference?"

"Boss, I know that ... You might not have said it very often but I always thought that you didn't think I was a complete waste of space. Don't think you'd have kept on with the head slaps if you didn't think I was worth beating into shape. And no, I'm not leaving because you didn't keep on massaging my ego."

Gibbs grimaced, "Don't think I'd know how to do that, sounds a bit unpleasant."

"And that's why you'll never be Director!" laughed Tony. Gibbs nodded in agreement and then asked,

"Tony, are you sure about leaving? Vance told me about the offer he made you. Even if you don't want to be out in the field you can stay at NCIS. You should think about it."

"Boss, I've done nothing but think about it and part of me wants to stay ... but a bigger part of me  _needs_  to go. And I'm staying in Washington. I may have decided I don't want to work with you guys any longer but I still want to hang out with you all. You've been a big part of my life for years, I can't just cut you out of it."

"No fear of that. I went to get coffee today and Radhika told me you've offered her a job. Looks as if I'll have to come visit just to get decent coffee!"

"Sorry about that, Boss," Tony winced. "Are you going to offer McGee my job?"

"Thinking about it, what do you think?"

"I think he's ready, he's so nervous I'll start calling him McQuiver but he'll be good. But you don't need  _my_  advice. What does your gut say?"

"My gut says I'd rather keep the senior field agent I've got now but he seems determined to go off and sell popcorn so I guess I'll go with McGee."

"It's not just about selling popcorn," Tony protested, "There’ll be sodas as well." Gibbs cleared his throat and looked uncharacteristically uncertain,

"I got McGee to Goggle Seymour Boulevard yesterday. Looked it up on Goggle Earth."

"So that's what McGee was doing for you, he was a bit secretive about it," interrupted Tony.

"Yeah, he found quite a lot for me. It looks a bit run down. Have you had a survey done?"

"Gibbs, don't worry. The theatre needs quite a bit spending on it but it's mostly superficial. Until fairly recently Archie was on top of everything so structurally it's sound."

"And you trust this Archibald, do you?"

"Please don't tell me that you had McGee run a background check on him?" exclaimed Tony and when Gibbs nodded, he laughed and said, “Because I've already done one. If the FBI spot us doing all these checks on him they'll start to think he's a criminal. Boss, I know you don't think much of my father but, in his own way, he's a pretty shrewd businessman. Before I went off to school all I heard from him was about how to run a company. So, of course, I've looked at Archie and we've drawn up a legal agreement so neither of us can rip the other off. Seymour Boulevard is a sound business opportunity. Admittedly it will be a bit shaky for a while but the business plan is a good one which will be good for us as well as for the area."

"I called the bank today," said Gibbs.

"That's ... er ... nice," said Tony, a bit puzzled at the way the conversation had turned.

"They said they could give me a mortgage on the house."

"Ouch, those termites the other year did more damage than you thought, eh?" asked Tony sympathetically.

"No, you bozo. It means that I can loan you some cash to get this theatre place done up."

Tony was genuinely lost for words and he struggled to keep his composure.

"Wow, Boss. I ... I ... I think that's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. Thank you."

"No need to thank me. We can go down tomorrow and sign the agreement."

"Boss, I can't accept your money. I don't need your money"

"Of course you do, it's going to take a small fortune to smarten your place up. My money's as good as anyone else's and it'll be cheaper than the bank."

"Gibbs, I really don't need the money. It's all in hand."

"Tony, it's up to you, of course, but you're not expecting your father to come up with money, are you?" Tony shuddered at the thought.

"No, Boss, no way. I've already got the money," at Gibbs' questioning glare, he hastily continued,

"You know I've always had some money from the trust fund my mom left me?"

"Yeah, enough to keep you in your fancy clothes and a fancy car. Not enough to fund this though," replied Gibbs.

"It turns out that Nonno and Nonna DiNozzo shared your doubts about my dad's finances so they each set aside some money for me, unknown to him, so that it wouldn't matter if he went belly up. In fact my grandparents each did it without letting the other one know; it seems they both felt a bit disloyal to Senior for doing it so didn't like to admit it to the other. I only found out about it a couple of months ago, just before I went to Seymour Boulevard."

"How much was there?" asked Gibbs a little faintly.

"They each put $100,000 in thirty five years ago. It was invested wisely and it's grown a bit."

"A bit?" queried Gibbs.

"Well, quite a bit. And Grandma and Grandpa Paddington put some money in trust for all their grandchildren so that will be useful too."

"Are these the parents of your uncle Clive who died a millionaire?"

"Yes."

"So I'm guessing that's 'quite a bit' as well?" said Gibbs even more faintly.

"Yes."

"Tony, do you  _need_  to find another job?"

"I guess not, didn't occur to me not to. Perhaps I'm not a playboy after all."

"So, let me get this clear, you don't need to work but you want to spend your time doing up an old theatre just for the hell of it?"

"Suppose so, does seem a bit out of character doesn't it?"

"Not out of character, Anthony. I'm proud of you," and Gibbs reached out to shake Tony's hand.

"Thanks, Boss, I might not be taking your money but I'll take your advice on restoring the seats in the theatre. I don't want to rip them out but they're in need of love and attention."

"My pleasure, Tony. Especially now that I know you can afford to pay me!" Gibbs laughed out loud at Tony's outraged expression.

NCISNCISNCIS

The next day Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo handed in his resignation from NCIS.

Twelve days after that, Special Agent Timothy McGee moved his possessions into Tony's newly vacated desk and then went to join the noisy, and emotional, farewell party for Tony taking place in the largest of the conference rooms.

The day after that Ziva, Tim, Abby, Ducky and Palmer, rather heavy eyed, paid their first visit to Seymour Boulevard. They carried pails, mops, paint brushes and other paraphernalia ready to start the movie theatre’s deep clean. Tony greeted them cheerfully, having obviously deployed the DiNozzo Defibrillator to good effect. Abby hugged him as she if she hadn't seen him for days and then hugged a slightly startled Archie who tried to remonstrate,

"Archie, if you're a friend of Tony's, you're a friend of mine and I hug  _all_  my friends."

Tony shrugged and said,

"No point resisting, Arch, an Abby hug is unstoppable." Archie wondered, not for the first time, at how his life had changed since he first met Anthony DiNozzo. Ducky spotted him and approached him with hand outstretched,

"Ah, Mr Archibald, a fellow Scot. How nice to meet you at last, Now tell me, from which part of Scotland did your dear mother hail?" and before Archie knew what was happening, Ducky had led him away to a quiet corner to continue their talk.

Miriam arrived with a big sack of donuts, with and without sprinkles. She also brought a rather nervous Stephen who was back on his meds and wanted to meet the person who had saved him. Ziva had brought sandwiches for later. McGee intended to look at the rudimentary booking system to see if he could bring it up to date. Radhika arrived with flasks of her inimitable coffee. Tony wandered round with a happy smile on his face.

An hour or two later, Ziva and Ducky were watching Tony talking to Stephen. Ziva was puzzled,

"There is something different about Tony today. Have you noticed it, Ducky?"

"He looks very happy, my dear."

"No, there is something else. I cannot put my thumb on it."

"Finger," corrected Tim coming up behind her.

"Is it possible that he has grown taller?" asked Ziva.

"Well," said Ducky, "it would be anatomically impossible for an adult of Anthony's age to grow taller."

"You're right, Ziva," said McGee, "he does look taller."

They all looked at Tony and realised that, indeed he  _did_  look taller. He had lost that slightly hunched, tense posture which he had often had at NCIS. At that moment they finally agreed with Tony that leaving had been the right thing for him.

It was nearly time for lunch break and Gibbs hadn't arrived yet. They decided to start on the sandwiches and coffee trusting that the aroma would somehow lure Gibbs. Sure enough, just as Radhika was pouring the coffee, Gibbs arrived carrying what looked like a large board, covered in an old sheet.

"What you got, Boss?" asked Tony eagerly.

"Not your boss, Tony. I've made a new sign for the theatre, paint took a bit longer to dry than I thought." Tony pulled the cloth off and everyone gathered round to look at the beautifully carved and painted sign.

Tony laughed as he read what was written on it:

" **SEE MORE MOVIES AT SEYMOUR MOVIE THEATER!"**

"Thanks 'notBoss'," said Tony, and he did what he had only done once before, he gave Gibbs a hug.

 


End file.
